Saturday, July 15th. . .
*First Draft*

I stroke Miss Frizzles back, using my other hand to reposition her better on the spot she's chosen to take a nap: my stomach. Shifting my head, I glance over at the digital clock sitting on my dresser.

Ugh, I've only got about forty minutes before it's time for me to be at the Patricks', preparing to run.

Though, we're still on for the run, right? I didn't get a chance to ask him in-person yesterday. He'd gone and shut himself in his room soon after he'd made me promise not to say anything. I hardly saw him the rest of the day.

I could just show up, but I severely doubt he feels like running. Even if it was just from eating too much, you sometimes don't feel good after being sick the day after. I don't know what to do.

But on the off-chance he is still running, it'll look horrible if I don't show up.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my phone buzzing in an alert to a new text message. I stretch myself over to the right, slapping the small bedside tabletop a few times before I'm rewarded with the feeling of my phone underneath my palm.

Grinning in triumph, I run my my free hand down Frizzles back while I hold the screen up to my face. An unknown number flashes in my notifications, the message a simple "Hey." Not much to go on.

Already guessing to whom it belongs to, but not wanting to miss this chance at some fun, I type back a reply.

Me < "Who's this?"

Pressing 'send', I only have to wait a few seconds before there's a reply.

Unknown Number < "Really? It's Drew. Who the fudge would it be?"

I bite my bottom lip to contain a laugh, finding his personality a little different over text messages than in-person. More amusing.

Me <"No. It still doesn't ring a bell. Stalker?"

Unknown Number < "Do you enjoy making things difficult?"

Me < "Sometimes."

Unknown Number < "You suck."

Me < "Okay, okay. I apologize. I'm sorry. Forgive me? 🙏🏻"

There's a noticeable pause as I wait a few seconds longer for the reply, and I genuinely begin to wonder if I actually hurt his feelings. Am I even capable of that?

Unknown Number < "I'll let it slide this time."

I add him to my contacts, smiling at the nickname I've given him.

Me < "We still on for the run today?"

Scrooge < "Duh. Why wouldn't we?"

I roll my eyes. Is he really this clueless? Though, then again, most men are.

Me < "U were sick yesterday. I wasn't sure if you were feeling up to it."

There's another pause, this one longer. I fiddle with Frizzles ear, much to her amusement, holding my screen level with my face.

Scrooge < "I've run in worse conditions."

I scoff. Yup, that sounds like him. Nothing like a brisk morning and some exercise to make a cold or stomach bug worse.

Me < "Alright. But that can't be healthy."

Scrooge < "You could say my health isn't exactly on the top of my 'to do' list. See ya later."

Ha, typical. He doesn't seem like one overly concerned about his health, obviously. Which I'm sure can't be good.

Me < "Ttfn."

I press the 'off' button on the side of my phone, gently placing Frizzles off my stomach and on to my bed as I swing my legs off.

Time's up.

*Time Skip*

I spot Drew standing out by his house as I turn on to their street, and my feet move a little faster on their own accord. He stands with his right hand shoved into the grey sweatpants pockets he's currently wearing, the black T-shirt hanging off his skinny frame and even fluttering slightly in the breeze as he leans up against the corner of the house with his earbuds already plugged in his ears.

That boy and his music.

He looks up from his phone screen as I approach him, and I don't miss the way his face suddenly perks up as his eyes land on me. He shoves his phone down in his pocket, pushing his beanie back some.

"Hey."

I stop in front of him. "Hey," I return, bouncing on my heels. "How ya feeling?" I question despite having already covered that in our texting earlier. His face tightens, and he looks down at the ground.

"I'm fine. But could you just stop bringing it up?" He snaps, causing me to arch a brow at him. And grumpy Drew strikes again. He shifts his stance, pushing off from the house.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, and he glances up at me, looking mildly ashamed. "But you are being awfully defensive about it." I muss, and he grinds his jaw. "Look," he points at himself. "I'm fine. End of discussion." He pointedly says, moving to walk past me.

I let a annoyed huff out, crossing my arms. And here we go again with the anger. This boy is seriously reminding me of a roller coaster. Up and down, down and up.

And don't forget those tight turns too.

"Alright," I walk up behind him. "let's just forget about it then, shall we?" I stick my hands on my hips, trying to act older then I am. Hey, I am older then him!

He lets an exasperated breath out, turning to face me. "Thank you-" He cuts himself off, his eyes up at the front door behind me as his face goes stone cold. I twist my face up in confusion, turning to look where he is.

Nadine's just stepped out the door, standing on the small patio as she stares over at us.

Drew turns away, grumbling a few things to himself as he walks a few yards down the sidewalk.

I look between the two, blinking in surprise.

Walking up to Nadine, I force a smile on my face. "Hey, Nadine," I greet her. She smiles back, though it looks just as forced. "Good morning, Nicki." Her eyes slide from me, back over to Drew.

I look back and forth. "Are you guys not speaking to each other or something?" I wave my hand, giving her a 'I-don't-blame-you-look'. She stays silent for a second before peeling her eyes down to me.

"No. Not exactly. We just had a bit of an argument this morning." She tiredly says, and I can't help but feel a twist of guilt for no apparent reason.

Maybe I should tell her? But then again, it might just burden her more. And I can tell from the drawn face, the exhaustion around her eyes, that she doesn't need more of that.

But there's that questions again: Why?

"Well, have fun. I'll have breakfast ready for when you return." She smiles, giving me a half wave. "You're the best Mrs. P!" I yell over my shoulder as I jog up the sidewalk. I catch her tossing Drew one more worried look before she's turning to head back inside.

I stop once I'm next to Drew, slowing to a walk. Drew is focused down on the dark screen of his phone, his eyebrows pulled together and his eyes narrowed like even the dim screen light hurts his eyes.

He quickly stuffs his phone in his pocket, and that's when I notice he's still squinting even while he's off his phone.

I stay quiet, despite the gnawing questions that are practically eating me alive.

He nods at me, picking his pace up to a jog. I shake my head, glaring at his back a few seconds before I also pick it up to second gear.

*Time Skip*

Stupid cramps. All their squeezing and ickiness. Curse them to a thousand leagues under the sea....Or farther!

Look at this, fifteen minutes into the run, after we stopped for stretching, and I'm a sweaty mess who's hobbling like I have a peg leg and can't run for the life of me.

It's pathetic!

I curl my lip up at myself, staring down at the dirt path Drew took us down as I force myself to carry on. Come on, distract yourself. Out here there's more nature, trees to look at, some squirrels...Hey, even the sun is out shining brightly and highlighting nature's beauty.

I've never been down this specific road before, but I'm trusting Drew knows where he's going. And if I'm being honest, I'd have to say it is a nice change of scenery.

I glare at Drew's back, which is currently about thirty yards ahead, mentally wishing I could zoom past him, look back and stick my tongue out at him. Real mature, I know.

But come on. He's so ridiculously fast, he'd make anyone jealous. And he does it so effortlessly too. I bet he could make it big time as an athlete. Coaches all over would be fighting for a grab at h-

Drew suddenly slows down, looking a little wobbly. I also slow, reeling back slightly in confusion. His jog goes from fast, to medium, to walking before he stops all together. I jog up next to him, a stab of alarm hitting me right in the gut.

He bends over, placing his left hand on his knee as his right goes up to press against the right side of his temple. Leaning over to look at him, I see his face is set in a painful grimace as his eyes repeatedly blink, like he's having trouble focusing.

I gently set my right hand down on his tense back that's rising and falling with each quick breath, moving it in small circles.

He doesn't even seem to realize I'm here.

He draws in a extra deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut before he opens them with a wince. "Shit," he mutters, lifting his left hand up to grab the left side of his face. He tightens both hands on each side of his head, earbuds already removed.

Potty mouth.

"Drew...?" I can't hide the panic in my voice. He tilts his head over in my direction, and he attempts to open his eyes. "Nick-" He breaks off with a hiss of pain, bending down over his knees as he tightens his hold even more.

"What's happening?" He ignores my question, squinting his eyes open to quickly glance around. He suddenly stumbles to the left, and I automatically wrap my arm around his torso in an attempt to help steady him.

He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, removing his left hand long enough to motion towards a specific tree that sticks out a bit more than the others do. Getting the message, I help him shuffle over to the tree.

Once we reach it, he hesitantly places his left hand on the trunk, feeling around a second before he slowly lowers himself down next to it. He keeps his face screwed up in pain, his eyes now permanent narrow slits as he squints.

I crouch in front of him, wanting to grab his hand and hold it to help comfort the obvious pain he's in. "Drew, what's wrong?" I repeat, adding some steal to my voice as I inch closer.

See, this is why you bring your phone with you when you run. But no! I have to use a stinking iPod.

His throat moves in a swallow, and his nostrils flare with each breath. Sweat damps his hair and coats his skin. He keeps his hands up at his temple, a slight tremble growing in his arms.

In answer to my question, he takes his right hand down, using it to dig in his pocket. He clumsily pulls his phone out, holding it under his head as he squints down at it. He presses something, then he's shoving the phone in my hand.

I glance down at the dark screen, just making out the word 'Nadine' highlighted on the call screen.

And there goes the calling his mom by her first name again.

Realizing he's calling her and wants me to talk, I place it up to my ear, hearing the familiar ringing.

It rings three times before Nadine picks up.

"Drew?" She says, obviously surprised he'd be calling her. "It's me, Nicki." I quickly correct, glancing up at Drew, who doesn't look to be getting any better like I'd hoped. "What's wrong?" I immediately hear the panic in her voice, causing the panic in my own chest to escalate.

"It's Drew....He, he-I don't know what's wrong!" I ramble, holding the phone tighter. "Calm down, Nicki." Nadine's breathless voice says, and I hear the sound of a door shutting somewhere in the background. "What's he doing right now? I'm getting in the car."

Already? Geez, it's like she's practiced this. . . Or she's had experience. . .

I lick my lips. "He's a...he's sitting, and he looks like he's in pain. He won't talk to me, and he keeps pressing his hands to his temple." I tell her, running a hand through my hair as I blow a tight breath out.

"Alright. Where are you?"

After telling her which road we're down, I end the call, nervously placing the phone beside me as I sit down on my knees next to Drew.

He hasn't moved much, except to pull his knees up to his chest, staying rock still as his forearms cover his face. His breathing seems to have sped up instead of slowing down, and there's a tremor in his shoulders and arms.

And once again, he looks so....venerable. So different from the cranky, indifferent hardhead he likes to go parading around as.

He suddenly unfolds halfway, leaning to his left as he gags. Horrible choking sounds as his back moves with each one.

This suddenly transports me back to yesterday, and I once again, feel a stab of sympathy for him. Sure I don't know exactly why he's currently trying not to puke, but that doesn't make me feel any better.

I shift closer to him, moving my left hand back up to rub his back.

Ten minutes goes by. He'd settled back to his prone form with his knees up to his chest and his forearms covering his face as his hands squeeze his head. The pain never leaving his face.

I perk up at the sound of gravel crunching underneath tires, my eyes snapping up the road. They land on the familiar cherry red vehicle, and I mentally force it to move faster.

Soon enough, Nadine pulls up beside us, quickly parking and hopping out of the vehicle. She immediately rushes to Drew's other side, kneeling down in the grass before she gently wraps her arms around him.

She pulls him closer to her, and he tucks his head between her chin and left shoulder. "It's okay, Drew. I'm here." She whispers to him, soothingly running her fingers through his tangled mop of hair once she removes his beanie.

I lean back against the trunk of the tree, folding my legs to me as I watch them.

He removes his right hand from his head, moving to wrap it around her waist. I see his eyes are still clinched shut, face screwed up in pain. Yet there's a tinge of something that seems to be a little softer now that his mom is here.

Nadine cuddles with him for a few more minutes before she looks over at me. "Can you help me get him in the vehicle?" I nod, standing up and brushing my pants off. "Drew, honey." Nadine brushes a loose piece of hair from his forehead. "We're going to move you to the car now." She tells him, smiling down at him with a tender smile.

Moving to stand on Drew's other side, I tuck my arm down between his armpit to get a firm hold. Nadine does the same, and together we lift him up. Drew immediately lets a groan of pain out, eyes flashing open a split second before he snaps them closed again.

Nadine watches him from the corner of her eye, concern as noticeable as night is to day on her face.

Walking to the car, she tugs the door open, positioning him next to the seat before she pushes/slides him onto the seat. I step away once we get him in, and she shuts the door.

"Can you drive, please?" Nadine questions, holding the keys out to me. I wordlessly nod, moving to the drivers side as she moves to the other back door. Shutting the door, I buckle before turning the vehicle on and preparing to turn around.

This might be illegal seeing as I don't have my license with me, but it's for an emergency.

I get us back on a paved road, turning to head in the direction of their house. I look through the front mirror, my eyes landing on Nadine who has Drew curled up next to her, similar to when we were under the tree, while she continues to fondle his hair with motherly concern.

"So, uh, what's wrong exactly?" I finally voice, returning my gaze to out front. I hear Nadine sigh from the back, and I almost think she isn't going to answer.

"Drew suffers from severe migraines."

Wait....what?

"That's one of the reasons we were arguing earlier," she continues. "He'd been having headaches on and off since yesterday morning and I'd told him not to go running today." There's a small smile on her lips as she gazes fondly down at Drew. "But being the stubborn person he is, he insisted."

Yep. Sounds about right.

"So headaches tell you when he's going to have a migraine?" I question, figuring I might as well get as much information out of this conversation as I can. Nadine shakes her head. "Not necessarily. Sure, usually if the headaches persist for a couple days it's a good warning, which is why I didn't want him to go running, but you can't ever just go off of that."

I shift in my seat, trying to recall everything I've ever read or heard about migraines. "Are they usually this...bad?" I peer back at them again, taking in Drew's pale face and trembling body.

"It all depends on the person. Drew's just naturally sensitive to light, which just amplifies his migraines and causes them to come completely out of the blue. They leave him practically paralyzed and unable to speak." She pauses, and I can tell she's getting a little emotional. "My poor child probably won't even remember what happened once it's over." She lapses into silence, and I leave her to be.

Gee, all that sounds horrible. I've never witnessed a migraine first hand, but seeing it, that's a completely different prospect.

It looks terrible.

I think I may have gained a new level of respect for Drew.

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A/N

Please VOTE. If you like this story even just a little bit, please show me. I'm having trouble getting the creativity and ump to write this book.....Comment too!